


one night

by logictron



Category: The Brave (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, I'm Sorry, PWP, Please Forgive me, it had to be done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 08:04:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14052555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/logictron/pseuds/logictron
Summary: Adam is back in DC for Patricia's son's funeral. He meets a stranger in a bar.(Please see notes before you decide to hate me forever ;))





	one night

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes, an idea creeps into my head and I can't get rid of it. I battled with this for weeks and it won. Here we are. That being said, this is pre-Pilot and it is 100% a one time deal. There are definite Jalton undertones here. There's no angst. Everything is great. 
> 
> Also, y'all have to know by now that I am the biggest multishipper and also that I love a good challenge of a rarepair. But Jalton is my heart and soul endgame. No exceptions. I hope you're willing to give this a shot!
> 
> Many many many thanks to my beta, undercoverwatermoon, and to chibisere23 for giving this a quick read through and fixing all the crap that didn't quite make it neatly onto the page (screen?). You guys are great!!

The funeral was anything but a quiet affair. Not that Adam expected anything less. Still, he was grateful to be there, to have spent the night before with Patricia, offering her what little support he could after the loss of her son. That timing had worked out was a blessing. She didn't deserve to be alone in any of this.

 

He stood beside her at the cemetery, her hand clasped tightly in his own, and Adam had to push back memories of a different funeral with a much smaller casket, of his mother weeping beside him. Patricia didn't weep until she laid her hand on the smooth dark wood of the casket. Adam wished he could magically get rid of everyone so she could have this moment alone. But he stood behind her, his eyes dutifully fixed on the trees across the drive, and offered her his arm when it was time to go.

 

Patricia had been smart in opting to host the reception at a neutral location. The sheer volume of people would've grown quickly claustrophobic, even in her impressive home. So the atrium at Old Ebbitt suited just fine.

 

"Please go get yourself something to eat," she urged, squeezing his arm. "And bring me a drink. If you come back in less than half an hour, I know you're a liar."

 

He opened his mouth to object but even with tear-stained cheeks and tired eyes, her arched brow was daunting. With a sigh, Adam nodded.

 

"What're you drinking?"

 

"Something strong," Patricia offered easily. In the five second span he'd stepped away from her, a small line of people had already formed. Adam swallowed back his protective streak and went off in search of her drink and also some food (for her). She hadn't eaten all day.

 

He wandered back inside, toward the bar, figuring that was a better shot than trying to get one of the wandering waiters to bring him something. At the entrance, he spotted a familiar face in Noah, who was talking to a pretty brunette Adam had never seen before. Their conversation dissolved before he got close and Noah started in Adam’s direction, nearly face to face with him before recognition dawned.

 

"Dalton! Adam. Hi. I actually forgot you were here," Noah admitted.

 

"I'd be offended but I'd say we're all a little distracted these days," Adam said.

 

"You leaving already?"

 

"No. No, Patricia asked for a drink. Don't think I'm gonna find anything strong enough on any of those fancy trays the waitstaff are carrying," Adam explained.

 

"Probably not. Is she--How is she doing?"

 

"You know Patricia. Stronger than any of us could ever hope to be." Adam still wondered at it. Losing her son had just been the icing on the cake. She'd been a force of nature since the second Adam had met her. He'd rarely respected anyone more.

 

"Yeah." Noah nodded grimly. "I guess I'd better get in there if I stand any chance of talking to her today."

 

"Probably a solid bet, yeah," Adam agreed.

 

Noah bid him goodbye, disappearing into the crowd, and Adam refocused on the bar. He spotted the brunette again at the far end by the windows and joined her, wondering what business she'd had with Noah.

 

After ordering himself a whiskey and a gin for Patricia, he leaned against the bar, casting a sidelong glance at the woman.

 

"If you're trying to scope me out without being obvious, you're doing a terrible job," she said, which caught Adam off-guard.

 

"Sorry. I saw you talking to my friend when you came in. I was trying to figure out if I knew you." It wasn't entirely a lie. Just mostly.

 

"Your friend?" She turned to look at him and he caught sight of the nasty scar on the other side of her neck. The neckline of her dress was modest but he could make it out anyway. Her brow quirked at his drifting gaze and Adam cleared his throat, looking down at his drink instead.

 

"Noah," Adam clarified. It was a common enough name that, if she hadn't actually known him, she wouldn't have much more information on him than she already did.

 

"We're...colleagues of sorts," she supplied. "And you?"

 

"Funny, I was about to say the same." He eyed her outfit again and realized she must've been at the funeral. So that was something."You know Patricia?"

 

"Colleague of sorts," she said again, this time with a teasing smile.

 

"So there's a badge in your pocket with some three-letter agency on it, huh?" It wasn't exactly a far leap to make.

 

"Probably."

 

"Can I get a name, then? Even if it's a fake one?" Adam wouldn't know the difference. The chances of him encountering this woman again were slim to none.

 

"Hannah," she supplied, offering her hand. "I'll let you decide if that's real or not."

 

"Adam." He shook her hand. "Likewise. Let me buy you another drink."

 

**

 

It was substantially more than half an hour later when Adam realized he should probably check on Patricia and deliver her drink. Hannah was exceptionally good company (or maybe Adam was just glad for the light banter after a week of the heaviness of the grief Patricia was carrying), and it didn't hurt that she was easily the most beautiful woman he'd seen today. Longer than that.

 

"Actually--" Hannah stood as Adam pushed off the bar. "I should probably call it a night."

 

The flash of disappointment he felt was instant and so much sharper than it had any business being.

 

"But, I'm actually staying at The W. You, um, could come find me if you wanted to." Hannah slid the tiny white envelope holding her spare keycard across the bartop. Adam hesitated only a second before pocketing the card.

 

"I might just do that," he murmured.

 

"I hope so." She smiled, squeezing his shoulder as she slid past him far closer than was actually necessary.

 

Adam watched her disappear out the revolving door before he turned back to the back of the restaurant, Patricia's drink in hand.

 

**

 

There was never any doubt that he'd take Hannah up on her invitation. Sometime on the flight back to DC, he'd realized, at Preach's prompting, exactly how much time had passed since he'd been with anyone. Adam had sworn off relationships years ago, but that didn't mean he hadn't indulged physically. Still, after losing Elijah, his priorities had shifted to his team. To Jaz. He'd spent most of their deployment helping her piece herself back together. He didn't regret a second of it, but he couldn’t help but wonder if his focus on Jaz and his long dry spell were somehow connected. There was only one surefire way to resolve things and figure out for himself if the connection was real or imagined, and Hannah had provided it seamlessly. 

 

Adam made his way up to her room, flipping the keycard through his fingers. When he let himself into her room, he found her in the bathroom--washing off her makeup, still in her dress, though she was barefoot now.

 

"Knock knock." He tapped on the door frame needlessly, her eyes already finding his in the mirror.

 

"I wasn't sure you'd come," she said, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features for the first time all evening.

 

"I can go."

 

"No, that's not it." Hannah sighed and turned to face him. "I haven't done this in a long time."

 

Adam had no idea if she meant a one night stand or sex in general. Not that it mattered. He was in the same boat.

 

"Haven't exactly been on my game lately, either."

 

"Last time it...went really poorly," Hannah rubbed at the scar on her neck, the one Adam had seen and then promptly forgotten about. His expression must've betrayed his rage because Hannah's eyes widened and she shook her head.

 

"No. No, this wasn't from that. There's just more than this one. Hazards of the job, the badge, the letters. You know." She shrugged but didn't meet his eyes.

 

The rage ebbed into quiet understanding and Adam sighed. "I don't care about the scars. Honestly."

 

Between the abuses of his childhood and the horrors of war, he'd seen everything. He categorized things as facts, as truths, without giving much thought to the history there. Probably because his own history (with much less visible scars) was one he guarded closely. Hannah could keep her secrets.

 

There was a second of consideration as Hannah regarded him. She seemed to be deliberating with herself. And then the hesitation was gone and she was shoving him back into the wall outside the bathroom, kissing him hungrily, faint traces of vodka on her tongue.

 

Adam let her lead for now, sliding his hands over her hips, drawing her impossibly closer as his tongue chased hers. She moaned as his tongue curled under her top lip, and he instantly wanted more of that.

 

"This needs to come off," he rasped, his fingers finding the zipper at the side of her dress. He paused then, pulling back enough to look at her. "Okay?"

 

"Fine," she whispered. He'd only barely begun with her, but with flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips, the need tugging in his stomach was almost overwhelming.

 

Jesus, it had been way too long.

 

With the zipper undone, the dress slid easily from Hannah's thin frame to pool at her feet, leaving her in a sinfully lacy bra and panty set, straight out of a lingerie ad. If he'd been thinking clearly, Adam would've guessed. Hannah seemed like the kind of girl who indulged in those sorts of things.

 

Unbidden, the memory of an only slightly less lacy black pair of panties mixed in with his laundry came to mind. Jaz's had gotten stuck somewhere in the dryer and had ended up in with his things. He pushed the thought away, reaching for Hannah again, kissing along her jaw this time, and down the side of her neck.

 

"Oh, God," she breathed as his hands found her waist again, her skin warm and smooth under his worn palms.

 

"Bed?" Adam wasn't opposed to doing this here, but with a perfectly good bed mere feet away, it seemed like a better option.

 

"You're wearing way too many clothes," Hannah lamented. He didn't hate how breathless she sounded.

 

"That can be fixed," he chuckled, already shrugging out of his jacket and unbuttoning his dress shirt. Stopping at his boxer briefs, Adam arched his brow at her, grinning. "Good enough?"

 

"Mmm, I'd say so." Her gaze dropped teasingly before refocusing on his face. The way she licked her lips made his breath hitch.

 

"Bed," he muttered, commanding this time as he reached for her to reclaim her mouth. When she backed toward the bed without any prompting from him, Adam followed.

 

With Hannah all but sprawled under him, Adam took advantage of all her newly-bared skin, trailing his fingers down between her breasts, following the faint contours of her ribs, dipping into her bellybutton. The way she arched into him made him groan.

 

His palm skimmed back up to her chest, his thumb dragging against the lace-covered swell of her breast.

 

"As sexy as this little get-up is, you mind if I take this off?" 

 

"Yeah," came Hannah's breathless, distracted reply. 

 

Adam slid his hand under her, easily unclasping the garment as his lips lowered to her neck. It wasn't until he felt the scar on his tongue that he remembered it was there at all. Hannah seemed to realize it at the same time, going stiff under him.

 

"Easy," he whispered. When he looked down at her, the uncertainty was back.

 

"Hannah. It really doesn't bother me," he murmured. "But I can avoid it if you want." With so much of her left to explore, Adam hardly minded.

 

"No...I..." She let out a frustrated huff. "It's fine. Really."

 

Adam's brow furrowed. "You'll tell me if you want me to stop?"

 

"You're not going to break me," Hannah insisted.

 

"Didn't think I was." His gaze flicked to her loosened bra and he tugged it away from her body, tossing it aside. God, she was stunning.

 

Opting to avoid whatever anxieties came from him being so close to her scars, Adam trailed his fingers along the undersides of her breasts, grinning to himself when her breathing stuttered. He circled her nipple with the pad of his thumb, and was rewarded with her soft moan.

 

Somewhere along the line, Adam had forgotten what this was like. He'd forgotten how it felt to take a woman apart, to watch and listen and _feel_. And Hannah was perfect, responsive and breathy and so damn soft.

 

Shifting his weight, he moved over her so he could lean down and brush his lips down the middle of her chest. His mouth lingered over her, his breath ghosting her skin. Adam was so mesmerized watching the spread of goosebumps, it wasn't until Hannah's fingers slid into his hair that he realized he was unintentionally teasing her.

 

"Please," she breathed. And even if he'd intended to keep tormenting her, Adam never would've denied her sounding like that.

 

He closed his lips around her nipple, sucking it carefully between his teeth. Hannah tightened her grip on his hair as she arched off the bed, pressing into the heat of his mouth. Leaving one hand to brace next to Hannah's shoulder, Adam slid his other hand up her thigh, nudging until he could kneel comfortably between them. His mouth moved to her other breast as his fingers hooked under her panties at her hip. Just as he'd predicted, Hannah shuddered, whimpering as his knuckles dragged over her skin. For the first time since he'd kissed her, Adam was painfully aware of how hard he was.

 

"Can I touch you?" For all she'd said about not being breakable, he still had to be sure.

 

"If you don't do _something_ you're officially the worst," Hannah declared, laughing through a groan.

 

"You know, I've been called a lot of things but I don't think 'the worst' is on that list," he laughed, sitting back to tug her panties off.

 

Adam leaned over her again, kissing her mouth as his fingers brushed lightly against her. He growled softly at the feel of her, slick and warm under his touch. This part, he'd forgotten too.

 

"More," Hannah whispered, nipping at his lips, her nails dragging down the back of his neck and across his shoulders, leaving him shuddering. And he obliged her gladly, stroking over her clit.

 

"Here?" he asked, chuckling as she rocked into his fingers. Her nails digging into his shoulders was more than enough reassurance.

 

"Adam, please..."

 

"That's it," he coaxed, his right arm slipping beneath her as his right hand worked between her thighs.

 

"Fuck," Hannah gasped, gripping his bicep. Her head tipped back slightly, lip caught under her teeth, and Adam couldn't resist kissing along her jaw. He circled her clit deliberately before dipping down lower, working just barely inside her.

 

"Can I?"

 

"Now you're just being mean," she whined. Adam laughed but quieted when she glared at him.

 

"I have every intention of making you come as many times as you can handle,' he promised, sinking two fingers into her, curling and stroking experimentally.

 

"Oh, God," she groaned as her hips chased the welcome pressure.

 

"This enough?" he asked, his voice more than a little ragged from being inside her and feeling her move like this. His cock ached.

 

"Mm-mm." Panting, Hannah shook her head, and Adam obligingly twisted his hand to press his thumb against her, too.

 

"Now?" If her broken moan wasn't answer enough, the way she fluttered around his fingers certainly was.

 

Quickening his pace, , Adam groaned against her ear. The way she was dripping for him made his mouth water. Fuck, he needed to taste her.

 

He must've said that aloud because Hannah reacted instantly, her body going taunt beneath him, trembling, hovering on the edge. And part of him desperately wanted to keep her there. But another, larger part of him wanted to break her apart, to give her what she so desperately needed.

 

"Let go, Hannah," he murmured. "Come for me."

 

She shattered instantly, her cries muffled against his neck as she unraveled beneath him, shaking so hard it rattled the bed. Adam's fingers mostly stilled, his thumb steady against her swollen clit, letting her move how she needed until the tension drained out of her and she went limp, boneless and panting, under him.

 

"Okay, I take it back," she murmured after a few minutes of just breathing.

 

"What's that?"

 

"You're definitely not the worst."

 

Adam chuckled, flexing his fingers, dragging a gasp and a sharp shudder from her. "No?"

 

"God. I mean... _God_ ," she moaned, drawing her knees up around his waist, rolling her hips into his hand almost languidly.

 

"Now you're just stroking my ego," he said, grinning down at her, countering the slow movements of her body.

 

"I haven't stroked anything yet," Hannah pointed out with a smirk.

 

"Gonna have to wait because I'm not done with you yet," he decided. "I really want to put my mouth on you..."

 

She let him go and exhaled shakily, closing her eyes as a faint blush colored her cheeks.

 

"You just might kill me," she moaned.

 

Taking that as his cue, Adam slid between her thighs, settling with his fingers still buried inside her. 

 

"Sure hope not," he laughed. "Kinda hoping you'll last the rest of the night."

 

His mouth found the inside of her thigh, his tongue brushing over her skin. The faint taste of her was more than enough to spike his arousal. At this rate, he was going to make a fool of himself before ever making it inside her. Kissing slowly up her thigh, Adam flexed his fingers again. His tongue traced the crease of her thigh and he had to anchor her hips with his free hand to stop her from moving too much.

 

"Easy," he whispered. "I got you."

 

Hannah breathed his name as his tongue finally brushed over her. It was barely anything, but the way she keened for it--for him--almost made him give up on the task at hand and just bury himself inside her.

 

Instead, he tasted her again, slower this time, pushing his fingers a fraction deeper, filling her to the knuckle. She moaned and lifted her hips into the contact and he took full advantage of the angle to dip his tongue into her alongside his fingers. When he withdrew to suck her clit into his mouth, she cried out, tugging at his hair as she broke again for him. This time, he didn't let her take what she needed. He drew it out of her with the careful pressure of his mouth and the steady coaxing of his fingers until she was writhing away from him, whimpering and gasping for air.

 

"Too much," she whined as Adam finally withdrew.

 

"Sorry," he murmured, grinning up at her, dragging his thumb under his lip, sucking the taste of her from his skin.

 

"You'd better not be," she said, reaching for him blindly. "Come here."

 

Adam obliged, settling beside her, anchoring his arm over her middle.

 

"You good?" he asked.

 

She laughed and kissed him, sucking his tongue into her mouth as she rolled into him, letting her fingers trail over his chest and down lower, stopping at the elastic of his waistband.

 

"Are you?" she purred.

 

"Peachy," he groaned, his voice breaking as she painstakingly dragged her nails down the underside of his cock through the cotton of his briefs."You have a lot of faith in my self-control..."

 

"Guess I'll have to wait a little while to put my mouth on you then, hm?" she asked, almost innocently.

 

"Hannah...Kinda giving me a run for my money here. You might be the worst..." he said.

 

Giggling, Hannah withdrew. "Condom?"

 

"Wallet," he said, gesturing toward his jacket which had barely made it onto the chair.

 

She retrieved it and returned, holding the packet between her teeth as she dragged his boxer briefs off. He might've been embarrassed by his obvious desperation if Hannah hadn't wrapped her fingers around his shaft and swept her thumb over his slit, collecting some of the beading wetness that had been steadily dripping for who knows how long now. She brought her thumb to her mouth, sucking it clean far more thoroughly than was strictly necessary. 

 

"You're a damn tease," he muttered, though it wasn't exactly a complaint.

 

"You know, I've heard that a time or two," Hannah said, rolling the condom on and kneeling over him.

 

Adam didn't doubt that. He smoothed his hands over her hips, watching her intently. He hissed when she guided him against her, and choked out a growl when she sank down onto him.

 

"Jesus," he whispered hoarsely, his fingers gripping her, keeping her still. "Hold on a minute."

 

"And here I thought you were Mr. Cool and Collected," she teased, but the now-familiar edge of need in her voice wasn't lost on him.

 

"I put on a good show, what can I say," he said, carefully releasing his grip with a steadying exhale.

 

Hannah leaned forward, her palms resting on his chest, and started to move slowly, the intoxicating drag of her hips somehow making him more desperate without breaking him completely.

 

"Look at me," Adam whispered, keeping his right hand anchored on her waist, sliding the other between them, his thumb easily finding her clit.

 

"Adam...I can't..." Her hips faltered at the pressure and he felt her spasm lightly around him. She lifted her head and met his gaze.

 

"You sure about that?" He rolled them over, sinking deeper into her.

 

"Fuck...Oh God, please..."

 

"Go ahead," he whispered, rocking against her, knowing he'd come as soon as he felt her. With one more drag of his thumb, Hannah shattered with Adam following closely behind, groaning through clenched teeth as white-hot pleasure overtook him.

 

When the pleasure subsided, Adam lifted his head from Hannah's shoulder, looking down at her.

 

"Hi," she murmured, smiling up at him, sated.

 

"Mmm, hi," he echoed, kissing her softly.

 

"That was nice."

 

Adam laughed. "Yeah, something like that."

 

"Are you staying?"

 

"If you want me to." He knew this wouldn't extend past tonight, but that didn't mean he had to run off.

 

"I'd like that," Hannah decided. "We could order room service, go another round?"

 

"Yeah," Adam agreed, shaking his head in amusement. "Okay." He finally pulled away, ducking into the bathroom to clean up a little before rejoining her in bed. She handed him the menu and they did exactly what she'd suggested.

 

It wasn't until the middle of the night, when Adam woke up next to her, that the trouble arose. Because, half-asleep, his only thought was that the body pressed against his was all wrong, that the smell of her skin wasn't right, that she used the wrong shampoo.

 

It had somehow not once crossed his mind until then. But Hannah wasn't Jaz. And that was starting to become a problem. As per usual, Preach was right. And Adam had absolutely no idea what to do with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, did you hate it? Was it terrible? Did it make you want to claw your eyes out? I'm so sorry. :-p


End file.
